


With All the Extras

by spirithorse



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: 5 Times, F/F, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 18:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirithorse/pseuds/spirithorse
Summary: 5 Times Sorey and Mikleo Were Extra About Their Relationship, And the One Time They Weren’t (Caught).





	With All the Extras

**Author's Note:**

> You think I would learn to not listen to Nami and her ideas. The answer is no, I have not learned.

**5.**

“Hey, Sorey, Sergei, lend me a hand. I need tall people.”

Gouldman looked up as Rose came over. He looked her over, noticing that there was now a feather boa and a flower crown in addition to the tiara that she had started the evening with. To his surprise, Rose was steady on her feet considering that he had seen her either at the bar or on the dance floor with her fiancée. Then again, his perception of time was strange. He hadn’t been paying attention for a while in favor of downing the first meal that he’d had all day. For all he knew, Rose had been taking it easy. Some of them had to.

He leaned to the side to allow Sergei to slip out from beside him. Gouldman reached out to slap his boyfriend’s hand away from the bread still on the table. “Leave it.”

Sergei grumbled and shuffled off with Sorey, Gouldman taking the chance to lean out and watch Sergei go. By some miracle he had gotten Sergei into skinny jeans for the night, and he was going to take every opportunity to enjoy them. It would be his only chance for the next month because of ill-timed business trips.

He smiled to himself, absently reaching for another piece of bread. Some of the others at the double bachelorette party might be taking the chance to get black out drunk, but he had three days left before he was trudging all around Lohgrin in the middle of the summer and a boyfriend to enjoy before then.

Gouldman nibbled on the edge of the bread, glancing around to where others were drinking at the bar or dancing. He caught a glimpse of Sergei holding a strand of lights up to hook them in place, a sure sign that dessert was on its way. Lailah had promised something amazing, and she never disappointed.

He hummed to himself, frowning when he heard a soft, broken sound from his left. Gouldman set the bread down on his plate and turned to look. He expected to see Boris trying to lead a drunken guest out to the back before they threw up on the floor. Instead, he saw Mikleo practically slumped on the table, his shoulders shaking. It was an odd thing, because Mikleo was usually very put together. Sobbing openly in public was something that Gouldman was sure that he would never see.

Gouldman shifted in his seat, looking around for Sorey. If anyone knew what was going on with Mikleo, it was Sorey. But Sorey was nowhere to be seen. He had probably be roped into hauling in what Lailah had brought, which meant that he was alone with Mikleo.

Gouldman shifted in place, finally deciding on a simple enough course of action. He reached over at patted Mikleo’s shoulder.

Mikleo froze, Gouldman quickly taking his hand away. He felt like he had overstepped his boundaries, and he didn’t quite know how to go about fixing it. He took a deep breath, ready to leave and seek out someone who knew how to calm a crying Mikleo, because that was a bit too much for him.

Then Mikleo reached out and grabbed his arm. Gouldman stared at it, shifting nervously before giving in. Sorey wouldn’t be gone for long, and he could at least distract Mikleo. It could be nothing, especially with the way that he and Sorey had been knocking back drinks just a few minutes before.

At a loss of what to do, Gouldman patted Mikleo’s arm. He hoped that it would be enough, but Mikleo looked at him with red eyes. Gouldman leaned back slightly, watching as Mikleo sniffed.

“Did you see that?”

“Who?” Gouldman looked around the bar, trying to follow Mikleo’s drunken logic with his own mind a bit fuzzy. He fumbled for a moment to try and see what Mikleo was talking about. Then again, his attention had been elsewhere, first on his food and then on Sergei. It was better to not pay attention to Sorey and Mikleo at times, especially with the way they had been giggling. But there was no one else that Mikleo could have talked to at the table.

He looked back at Mikleo, watching at the man wiped at his eyes before taking a gamble. “Sorey?”

That brought something like a smile to Mikleo’s face. “Yes, Sorey.” He sniffled again. “He’s just…so smart and we were having such a good time. But he’s…he’s…”

Gouldman frowned as he tried to work through this new puzzle. “He’ll be back in a minute.”

“ _Married._ ” Mikleo practically wailed the word before letting himself slump against the table.

Gouldman looked at Mikleo, watching him cry for a moment before he glanced at Mikleo’s left hand, where a wedding band shone in the light of the bar.

At a loss of how to correct the problem, Gouldman gently patted Mikleo’s back while he looked frantically for Sorey in the hopes that he would return and calm his husband.

* * *

**4.**

Sorey turned sideways to squeeze through the door. He sucked in his stomach, trying to make himself as thin as possible. He felt one side of the door jamb slide against his back, Sorey trying not to knock the doorstop away. Alisha had done that once and locked them all out. They’d had to boost Rose in through one of the windows, which was not an auspicious start to their new house. Sorey would have to ask Mikleo to talk to Uno to see if he could bless Rose and Alisha’s house, if only to chase out further bad luck.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he made it through the door, adjusting his hold on the box. Sorey tipped his head, trying to figure out where they were. Alisha had been running up and down the stairs, having been put in charge of that part of the house. Rose was confined to the lower level because she had hurt her knee in a very unspecified way during their honeymoon. Sorey had his suspicious about it, but everything was answered by the way that they had blushed. In any case, it wasn’t like they were hurt by it. Sergei and Boris had helped the day before and this was the last car load. Then they would be treated to pizza and beer. Sorey couldn’t argue with that.

He picked his way towards the back rooms, perking up at a burst of laughter from there. He started to make his way towards them, quickly spotting where Rose was tucked up.

She was on the ground sorting through a box of books and knickknacks, right by the chair that she was supposed to be sitting in. Sorey gave her a concerned look, one that Rose didn’t seem to see.

She looked up at him, squinting at the box. “Where?”

Sorey tipped the box slightly, staring at the scrawled note. “Kitchen.”

“Through that door.” Rose motioned off to their left. “And just leave it. We’ll get to it when we get to it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Alisha will be done with the stuff upstairs in a moment.”

Sorey nodded and walked through the door and into the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, looking around. Boxes were piled everywhere, leaving him not a lot of space to put things. Sergei and Boris had done more than he had expected, which made him feel bad about leaving it all to them.

He walked carefully through the mess, setting his box on top of a sturdy looking one. He reached behind to rub the small of back idly as he walked back into the room where Rose and Mikleo were working. He raised his voice slightly so Alisha could hear him upstairs. “Last three boxes!”

There was a cheer from upstairs, Sorey smiling to himself. He stepped into the next room. “After those three, what-”

He squeaked and came to a stop, staring at Mikleo.

He’d been peripherally aware that Mikleo was helping sort out the room, but he hadn’t looked. He hadn’t realized that it involved reaching.

Sorey stared at the strip of skin that showed just above Mikleo pants as Mikleo reached up. Sorey stared at the little bit of skin, his thoughts stuttering before flying loose.

He stared openly, fully intending to stand there until he could think about something other than Mikleo and running either fingers or lips across that skin when something smacked his leg.

Sorey yelped and hopped away, holding his leg off the ground. He turned to look at Rose, setting it carefully back on the ground.

Rose brandished the book at him. “Not in my house.”

“What…”

“You were doing that thing. The staring at Mikleo thing.”

Sorey glanced over at Mikleo, hoping to get some back up. From the short look he got, Mikleo wasn’t paying them any attention but still putting books and trinkets in on the shelves. His hair was pulled up in some messy hybrid between a bun and a ponytail and his shirt was rising up again….

Rose smacked him with the book again, Sorey hopping out of range. For a moment, Rose looked like she was going to haul herself over, but she seemed to think better of it. Instead, she shook the book at him. “Keep your eyes to yourself, mister.”

“But I was just-”

“You were ogling him.”

Sorey made a helpless motion towards Mikleo, Rose following it. It took her a long moment, Sorey tempted to check to make sure she was looking at the right place, but he was afraid that Rose would throw the book at him.

Rose turned back to look at him, narrowing her eyes. “You’re going all goofy for that?”

“It’s very distracting.”

“Sorey…” Rose seemed to struggle with words for a moment before she shook her head. “You two have been friends all your life. You’ve been dating for half of that.”

“But-”

“You’ve been fucking him since _high school_. I don’t want to know how many times you’ve seen each other naked.”

“Rose-”

“You’ve seen his skin!”

“But Rose-” He bit his lip as Rose held up the book.

She stared at him before shaking her head and motioning towards the door. “I don’t want to hear it. Just haul the rest of the boxes while I cover up your husband so the two of you don’t christen this place before Alisha and I get to.”

Her tone of voice brooked no argument. Sorey retreated out of the room, hurrying from the front door and away from temptation.

* * *

**3.**

Mikleo cupped Sorey’s face, kissing him softly. He heard Sorey hum, Mikleo leaning into the kiss for a moment longer before pulling away. Even then it was just to press their foreheads together. He sighed as Sorey brushed his fingers through his hair, content to stay there forever. But they couldn’t.

Mikleo opened his eyes, looking into Sorey’s eyes. “You promise you’ll be back.”

“I promise.”

“As fast as you can?”

“Nothing could stop me. Not when you’re waiting for me.”

Mikleo sighed and draped his arms over Sorey’s shoulders. “I’ll wait, no matter how long it takes. Anything for you.”

Sorey opened his mouth to say something else, stopping when there was a groan from the door.

Mikleo turned his head, not daring to lift his head away from Sorey’s. He looked at the door to his office, watching as Rose made an impatient motion into the hallway.

“We’re going down the street to get lunch. I’m not marching him off to his doom. Calm down.” She threw her hands up in the air and stormed off.

Sorey to gave him an apologetic smile, before leaning in for a quick kiss. Mikleo whimpered his protest, but Sorey was already scurrying off after her. “I’ll be back.”

Mikleo waved at him, rushing to the door in the next moment. “Don’t forget the extra fries!”

* * *

**2.**

The first thing he was aware of was voices.

“You swear you tell us if you need anything.”

“Yes.”

“You’re alright here?”

“Yes.”

“Sergei and Boris will be dropping of food for the two of you later.”

“Key is where it always is.”

“And call as soon as they have an idea of when they’ll be releasing him. We’ll do something special.”

“As soon as I know.”

“Alright.”

He heard footsteps retreating, getting lost in the haze that was the rest of the world. It was interesting enough to try and get him to open his eyes, but it was a struggle. It was warm where he was. Warm and it felt like he was floating.

Sorey didn’t know how many times he slipped in and out of consciousness, but it felt like days and just seconds. He finally managed to open his eyes, staring at the white ceiling. Sorey frowned at the unfamiliarity of it. He turned his head to one side, following the white down the wall.

This wasn’t his room. Which meant that this wasn’t his house. That should have been worrying, but he was still drifting too much for that to be an inconvenience. Sorey shifted slightly on the bed, slowing turning his head to the other side when he heard someone gasp. It took more effort that he was sure that it should, but that thought drifted away with the rest of the things that didn’t matter.

He took a moment to nuzzle into his pillow, enjoying the softness. He played with the idea to drift back to sleep, but he remembered the voices. There had been a few, although just who they were was slipping his mind. Sorey frowned and tried to focus on the person beside him. The blurred in and out before everything settled. It felt like things were still spinning slightly out of his control, but the world wasn’t spinning. Sorey was sure that he would get a handle on things in a moment, his brain just felt like it was working through cotton.

There was an angel by his bedside. There was no other explanation for the beautiful person sitting there.

Sorey sighed, wanting to reach up and touch the angel’s face, but that would mean blocking some part of him. But it was so beautiful, almost classical. There was some other connection to be made, ones that Sorey could just barely reach at. They were a tangle of gods and comparisons that should have come easily to mind, or maybe they were just slow in coming. Sorey was willing to wait them out, because they had to be structured perfectly.

He took a deep breath, whatever he had been cobbling together disappearing when the angel leaned over him. “Sorey?”

Sorey perked up with a grin, reaching out for the hand that was offered him. He didn’t let the fact that he was a few inches off deter him, not when the angel was quick to adjust for his folly.

The angel squeezed his hand, smiling at him. “Are you going to stay awake now, or are you going back to sleep?”

“I’ve been awake.”

The angel snorted and even that sound was delightful. Sorey letting his eyes slide closed as the angel touched his hair, remembering himself at the last minute. He might just drift off to sleep again, which would be nice, but the angel might not be there when he woke up. He pried his eyes open again. “I’m awake.”

“I can see that.” The angel leaned in. “Can you stay that way for a bit? There’ll be someone to check on you in a moment.”

“Check on me?” Sorey wrinkled his nose, trying to put things into an order that made sense. The bits and pieces were slow in coming, frustratingly so. “I’m…I’m not at home.”

“Yes.” The angel shifted closer. “What do you remember?”

“I’m not at home.” Sorey crewed up his face in thought, snatching at the thoughts that drifted through his head like dandelion fluff. “I was…sick?”

The angel nodded like he didn’t hear the question in Sorey’s voice. “Appendicitis.”

“Oh.” Sorey tried to line up the fluffy thoughts. That made a bit more sense with the things that were coming back to him. He remembered stomach pain, something that had gotten worse. Everything else after that was fuzzy, but not in connection with his current thoughts, just to the point where there was nothing but pain.

He dropped his gaze to the hand in his, starting to pin his thoughts down in the new order. “So, I’m in a hospital.”

“Yes.”

Sorey nodded, working through the order of events again. It was unlikely that the person by his bed by an angel, no matter what his opinion on the matter was.

He shifted his hold on their hand before looking up at him. “You’re my nurse?”

He expected another affirmative, or some kind of introduction, but he got a blank stare instead. The person in the chair shifted, opening and shutting their mouth for a moment. “Sorey, I…are you okay?”

Sorey nodded, going to motion at himself. He wasn’t sure if he quite managed it with how slow and offside everything seemed to be. “Yeah. It’s just…fuzzy.”

“Oh.” The man sat back, looking him up and down before shaking his head.

For a moment, Sorey thought the man was going to leave. He squeezed the man’s hand, breathing out a sigh of relief when the man resettled himself.

“Sorey, I’m your husband.”

Sorey stared at him. His first thought was to say that the man was joking, but his face was completely serious. Sorey stared at him for a moment before looking down at their hands.

It was easy enough to see the man’s wedding ring, a nice, well-loved band of gold around his ring finger. Even more surprising was the matching one around his finger.

Sorey raised their hands close to his face, staring at the two rings. Both had the careful block letters of the ancient tongue, spelling out the familiar words of a love poem from that era.

Sorey felt his throat go dry as he stared at the rings. The ancient tongue wasn’t very popular for romantic gestures like this. Even if a poem was chosen, it was never this one, because there were plenty of others with a more obvious romantic bent. Even then, they were always engraved in the modern Glenwood language. The fact that the two rings had two different stanzas of an uncommon poem had to mean that they were a matched set. Beyond that, Sorey couldn’t imagine anyone other than a nurse who would willing sit by his bedside while he woke up from an appendectomy aside from his family, and he would have recognized them immediately.

Then again, he was sure that he should have recognized his husband, especially when he looked like that.

The problem was, he couldn’t wrap his head around it. “Because I’m a workaholic, everyone has told me that. And Rose has had to haul me out of my office multiple times so I don’t work through the night.

“Besides, you’re really pretty and I can’t imagine me getting this lucky. I mean, I’m not horrible looking but you’re _really_ pretty and I just know stuff, about very specific things, and dead people. I know a lot about dead people. Mostly things that no one else cares about. But I do. A lot. But I’m also the guy that got a boner while looking at Asgard era architecture, because it was _so_ pretty.”

He took a deep breath, about to come up with something to ask the man, just to make sure that he hadn’t drifted off to sleep again. But the man just made a choked off noise.

Sorey stared at him, watching as the man started laughing. He licked his lips, wanting to ask what was so funny when the man leaned forward.

The man pillowed his head on Sorey’s shoulder, shaking his head as he laughed. “I love you so much, Sorey.”

Sorey glanced down at the man, raising his hand shakily to pat the man’s head. Sorey counted that and the slow clearing of the fuzziness in his head a victory. It was still hard to put together thoughts quickly, but he was getting there. He assumed that he would be back to normal when it all wore off. That might be a while and, until then he was perfect happy to stroke the man’s hair as he laughed. After all, his laugh sounded so nice, and his hair was so soft.

Sorey leaned forward to nuzzle into it, humming happily to himself. The response, when it came was automatic, but completely sincere.

“I love you too.”

* * *

**1.**

Mikleo caught himself on the back of the bench, gasping for breath. His lungs felt like they were burning, everything felt like death. He leaned forward until his forehead was resting on his arms, wincing at the slide of sweat. If he stayed here long enough then he was sure that he would stick in place, which would serve him right.

He should have known better than to do this because it had been a year since his last sabbatical. Even then, he had the experience to pass off some of the younger members of the dig. Mikleo had never thought anything of it. It was what came with a PhD. He had never considered what it had done to him.

Mikleo grunted as someone walked by and slapped his shoulder. He lifted his head, wincing at the sound of sweaty skin peeling away from sweaty skin. He pressed his cheek against his arm, glaring over at where Sergei was waiting for him. The man had the audacity to be jogging in place like they hadn’t just gone two miles at a good pace.

He reached out to swat at Sergei, not caring that the motion fell short. Mikleo groaned, leaning more against the bench. “Leave me to die.”

Sergei laughed, which was just like him. Mikleo managed something like a glare at him, not that it helped. Sergei drifted back to him, Mikleo watching as Sergei reached out like he was going to pat his shoulder again, but Sergei seemed to decide better of it.

He hovered awkwardly at Mikleo’s side, giving him a look that almost could have been apologetic, if he hadn’t looked like he was ready to go another mile. “You should walk at least, so you don’t cramp up.”

“I would, if my legs were working.”

“They’ll feel better once you start.”

Mikleo glared at Sergei for a moment more before pushing away from the bench. He took of a few unsteady steps, ignoring the way that Sergei motioned encouragingly at him. He knew that he could do it, but that didn’t mean that he was happy about leaving the bench.

He wobbled a few steps before his legs seemed to remember their job. Mikleo purposefully didn’t look at Sergei, because he didn’t want to see the encouraging smile. He didn’t want to be encouraged. He wanted to go back to leaning on his bench. Or, even better, he wanted to go home, take a shower and lose himself in the latest book on the history of the Shepherd’s trials.

And then he wouldn’t move, for at least three days.

He’d work out the logistics for the how later, possibly when he was already horizontal.

Mikleo trudged with Sergei through the park, eyeing all the other joggers. He’s seen a good number of them while he and Sergei had been running and Mikleo recognized a pair that had been running when they had just gotten to the park. He stared at them as they jogged past, not sure if he was horrified or impressed. That was something that he would work through later, when he didn’t feel like death warmed over.

He reached up to yank his hair out of the ponytail, twisting it up into a burn to keep it off of his neck. “I’m gonna cut it off.”

Sergei shot him a horrified look. “No.”

“If I go running with you again, I need not to suffocate under it.” Mikleo paused for a moment before shaking his head. “Maotelus forbid I go running with you again.”

Sergei shrugged. “It’s not for everyone. But it is nice to get out early.”

Mikleo nodded. He was willing to give Sergei that one, because the early morning was nice. Long hours at the college or grading papers had taken away those early mornings, at least the ones where he wasn’t running to the college. That was the only running that Mikleo could see himself allowing in the future.

They turned back towards the parking lot, Mikleo not surprised to see two people already by the car. Sorey had bounded ahead with his endless energy that came after a week cooped up in the back rooms of the museum. Gouldman had followed for some unknown reason. Apparently no one had told him not to try and keep up with Sorey when Sorey was in a mood. It was sometimes just better to let Sorey go and trail after him.

Mikleo sighed, ready to apologize for Sorey running Sergei’s boyfriend ragged when his mind caught on what he was seeing.

The two of them were leaning back against the car and talking, but Sorey’s shirt was off. Mikleo could see it laid out on the roof of the car, but he could focus on it.

Sorey was still sweaty from his run and, while Mikleo would vehemently deny the use of glistening abs as a proper description of anything, there was no denying that it was perfect for this one instance. The early morning sun hadn’t managed to burn off the fog, so the world was soft. It was the perfect frame, for ogling his husband.

Mikleo bit his lip as a whimper slipped out, his fingers twitching at his sides. This perhaps was the true downfall of jogging at the park, their bed or a suitable horizontal surface was too far away, and Mikleo wasn’t desperate enough to drag Sorey to a secluded part of the park.

Yet.

He didn’t jump when Sergei rested a hand on his shoulder. That would mean losing too much time that could be spent staring at Sorey. Sergei seemed to take that in stride. He wrapped his arm around Mikleo’s shoulder and started guiding him towards the car. “When I’ve been married for five years, I hope I can still look at my spouse the same way.”

Mikleo made a sound that could have been agreement, but he wasn’t too sure of his ability to make it understandable. It was hard when Sorey was standing there, slightly sweaty and smiling at him.

* * *

**Extra.**

Sorey came around the side of the table to take Mikleo’s plate, leaning over to kiss the top of his head. “I’ve got it.”

Mikleo gave him a long look before passing the plate over without an argument. Sorey went around the table, collecting the rest of the plates. Alisha was the only one who frowned at him, looking like she was going to pull her plate away from him. “But, you cooked.”

“And Mikleo will wash.” Sorey glanced at Mikleo with a smile. Mikleo grumbled but gave in without a fight. Sorey nodded and took Alisha’s plate. “Besides, washing up while the two of you are here would be rude. But, since we’re getting dessert, I might as well get things soaking.”

Alisha smiled her thanks while Rose practically jumped out of her seat. Rose seemed to remember herself a moment later, sinking back into her seat. “Mikleo dessert?”

“Partially.” Sorey shot a look back at Mikleo, watching as his husband shrugged.

Mikleo leaned forward, playing with the little charm on the stem of his wine glass. “Lailah had some scraps and odds and ends at her bakery and you know she can never throw things out.”

Rose groaned and sunk back in her chair with a blissful look at her face. Alisha had the same expression, her gaze going distant. “We eat there…far too much.”

“You should join Sergei on his daily runs.” Sorey ignoring the glare that Mikleo threw at him, but he did quickly amend his statement. “When Sergei gets back.”

Rose groaned. “He should just haul that man’s ass down here already. We’re all missing out with this long distance thing.”

“They’re working on it.” Sorey tossed the words over his shoulder as he stepped into the kitchen. He could hear the others carrying on the conversation about Sergei and Gouldman.

It was a shame that they had to go long distance, but they had all gotten an earful of Gouldman’s problems with the transfer. It seemed like a never ending pain, which meant that at the end of each month one of them would take the train to the other and they would spend a long weekend together. Then, Sergei would come back a mope a bit, which was why he and Mikleo had carefully set aside two servings of the dinner for him. They had made enough for all of them, and there was no point in having Sergei miss out entirely, not when he was going to be miserable anyway.

Sorey set the dishes in the sink, running the water over them. He and Mikleo would get to them as soon as Rose and Alisha left, or maybe even the next morning. The pots and pans that had been used for cooking dinner were already washed, he and Mikleo had taken care of those before Rose and Alisha had arrived. If this was like any other of their meet ups, they would all be up late and in no mood to tackle a pile of dishes that night or in the morning. If anything, they would sleep in.

He sighed and leaned against the counter, looking back out into the dining room. Mikleo turned his head and caught his eye, Mikleo smiling at him before turning his attention back to the conversation. Sorey let the sound drift over him, content to rest on a full stomach. He was almost inclined to be lazy. Almost.

Mikleo glanced back at him before making an impatient motion. “The trifle is in the fridge.”

“I know. I’ve been staring at it all day.”

Mikleo laughed, leaning back in his chair. Sorey could hear Alisha chuckling as well. He allowed himself a moment more of leaning before pushing away and heading towards the fridge. He took a moment to rest his forehead against the cool metal of the fridge, taking a deep breath.

He was about to open the door when he heard Rose break into giggles. It was a sure sign that she was edging out of the tipsy stages and into something more like drunk. Sorey frowned, trying to remember the state of their guest room.

He didn’t think that he and Mikleo would ever make it better than the semi-office state it was becoming. But there was at least a bed, and one wide enough to hold the both of them, if Rose didn’t pass out on their couch like old times. It didn’t matter that Rose and Alisha’s house was just a block away, Sorey wouldn’t feel right sending them out while they were tipsy. It was definitely something to plan with Mikleo.

Sorey sighed, about to poke his head out and give the prearranged signal to cut Rose off when he heard Rose sigh. “This has been nice, but not only because of the food. The food is always good.”

“Thanks!” Sorey smiled as he heard Rose squeak his name, sure that he was getting a thumbs up for his contribution to the conversation.

There was a thump, Sorey listening for a moment just to reassure himself that nothing had fallen over. If it had, Rose didn’t pay it any mind.

“Look, I love the two of you like my own brothers. That’s why I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you?”

“Because you’re behaving like adults.”

Sorey laughed and leaned against the fridge, easily able to imagine the expression on Mikleo’s face, the one that was halfway shocked and halfway offended. Like he expected, Mikleo sputtered.

“That’s because we are.”

“No. No. You’re always touching each other or going overboard with affection. Every parting is like…forever.”

“It’s true.” Alisha chimed in softly. “It’s a little over the top.”

“Like you two don’t do that.”

“Not like the two of you. It’s…a lot.”

Sorey listened to Mikleo working through sounds, his husband trying to figure out a defense. Knowing Rose, there wasn’t one. She had already made up her mind and this was just a comment that had been forthcoming. But it also meant that it was time to diffuse the situation before the two of them really got into it. It was an argument that Mikleo would never win. Mikleo would rely on logic and Rose would slip and slide around it with all of her usual grace. It would end the same way everything ended, with Mikleo in a grumbling funk because Rose had bested him, but only for a while. But it would be long enough to linger over dessert, which would be a shame because the trifle that Mikleo had created was a work of art.

Sorey carefully pulled out the bowl, balancing it as he walked back into the other room. The appearance of the treat was enough to bring silence to the table. Sorey flicked his gaze over to Mikleo, catching the relieved smile. Sorey returned it before settling the trifle on the table. “We’re going to be a little informal with this.”

“Yes, please.” Rose scooted closer, nudging a spoon over to Alisha as her wife stared at the dessert in awe.

Sorey circled around to claim his seat beside Mikleo, watching as Rose and Alisha stared at it. “I think it’s going over well.”

“Me too.” Mikleo looked the trifle over carefully before shrugging. “I’ll do it better next time.”

Sorey shrugged. “We’ll know that we need more fruit next time.”

“That too. Any maybe actually a theme other than, what leftovers we have and what was at the farmer’s market.”

“Probably.” Sorey leaned forward, digging in as Alisha and Rose dug in. Mikleo was a beat behind, Mikleo taking his time to pick out his favorite parts.

Sorey raised his eyebrow at that, knocking his foot against Mikleo’s. As he expected, Mikleo responded in kind. Sorey smiled to himself, grabbing another spoonful of the trifle as he and Mikleo started a discrete game of footsie under the table.

END


End file.
